Brotherhood: Ashes to Ashes
by Yami-chan and Unrealistic
Summary: A short little fic dealing with the brotherhood between Mustang and Hughes. [fixed format]


-1I'm baccccccccccckkk! School had kept me occupied for the last…uh, year. But during that time I have become obsessed with the anime, Fullmetal Alchemist. SO I thought I try my hand at a fic. Be kind!

AN: Up to the point I wrote this fic, I have only seen up to episode 13 and read up to chapter 40 in the manga. So….some stuff may be off. For example, I don't know what rank Mustang and Hughes were during the Ishbal war. I'm making it up as I go. NO CRITICISMS!

Disclaimer: holds up sign YC does not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of its characters YC walks off sniffling

P.S. -- I tend to shift between calling Mustang and Hughes from their first names to their last names. Mostly I'll use their first, but for creative output, I'll eventually call them otherwise.

_They can't tell me who to be_

'_Cause I'm not what they see_

_The world is still sleeping while I keep on dreaming for me_

_And their words are just whispers and lies I'll never believe._

**Brotherhood:**

**A S H E S**

**T O**

**A S H E S**

"Eastern sector secured!" The commander yelled back an affirmation. "Squad B, move back to the central square! Alchemists, take up the front line!"

The few remaining did as ordered. Despite all the precautions, the trip to the make-shift base camp was uneventful, the soldiers' presence watched only by the lifeless eyes of the dead. The troops scattered to their individual tasks. Some to write loved ones waiting at home, others to eat a cold meal in the brief time they had, and others finally caught some sleep on the sandy ground.

A black-haired young man ambled to the back of the tent and fell into a chair with a sigh. He rubbed his face which only spread soot from his formerly white gloves to his face.

"Hey, Roy." Another man slapped a hand on the former's back as he took a chair next to him. "Rough day?"

"You could say that." Roy leaned back in his chair and Maes offered a slight smile.

"You alchemists got it rough. For once I'm glad I have no talent in that department," he said, trying to bend the frame of his glasses into an effective shape. The lieutenant was silent as he rested his chin on folded hands. His dark eyes seemed to be focused in another world.

"Yoo hoo." Maes waved a hand in front of his friend's face and was rewarded with a glare. "Don't tell me all this madness is finally getting to the unshakeable Flame Alchemist."

"Of course not," was the monotonous reply. "Just thinking."

"Uh-huh, right."

Maes jumped up. The action caused him to wince and hold a hand to his side. Roy sighed as he wiped ash off the alchemic symbols of his gloves and set them aside.

"How many times are you going to reopen that wound? Sit down."

The usually eccentric man obeyed with some grumbling as he threw his uniform coat over the chair. As Roy went to work, Hughes looked out the tent flaps to the nearly deserted city.

"I heard all the State alchemists are being transferred to the southern sector." Roy's hands faltered slightly as he undid the bandages. "It's pretty bad down there," continued Maes. "Don't get yourself killed."

"You should be talking," retorted the other lightly. "At least I don't keep injuring myself every time I have the chance." He poked the wound to accentuate his point. Maes yelled as he leapt forward. He glared at his comrade. Roy just smirked and motioned for him to sit again.

"You're cruel, you know that?" Maes grumbled as he complied.

"So I'm told."

In a matter of minutes, the officer was done. Maes buttoned his shirt as Roy washed his hands in a basin.

"God, I miss running water," he mumbled under his breath. He dried his hands on his pants. The alchemist went to sit again, then paused. Unusual sounds echoed in the air. _Yelling? _Eyes widened in realization.

"GET DOWN!"

He pushed Maes to the floor as the grenade went off. Debris flew through the air as the tents were ripped out of the ground and the broken building shattered. As the dust settled, shouts echoed through the stillness; shouts for comrades and for help.

Debris shifted as lieutenants Mustang and Hughes sat up, coughing from the settling sand and dust. The two stood and surveyed the carnage. The pathetic excuse for a base was gone, nothing more than pieces of stone and scattered supplies. Men struggled from the rubble and screamed in pain. Roy knelt to the nearest victim.

"Commander."

But the superior officer was already gone. Mustang's eyes narrowed.

"This is bad," stated Maes. Roy was about to make a snide comment when new shouts echoed through the air.

"Looks like they caught the perpetrator," commented Hughes.

The officers struggled to the gathering where angry shouts flew back and forth. A young Ishbal teenager was thrown to the dirt, blood staining the rags that served as clothes.

"He admits he did it!" yelled one soldier, Andrews by name.

"What do we do with him!"

Murmurs and yells erupted again. Slowly all eyes fell to Roy.

"Wha-what?" he questioned, caught off-guard.

Maes leaned toward him. "The commander is KIA. You're commanding officer now."

A barely audible 'oh' escaped his lips.

"What do we do!" voiced Andrews, his foot on the man's back.

A brief argument flitted through Mustang's mind. _Orders were to eliminate all rebel factions. No exceptions. _He pulled on his gloves. Soldiers backed away, having seen the Flame Alchemist in action.

"Roy…" He ignored Maes's plea.

The Ishbal man glared at the officer, red eyes showing no fear. "You will be punished by God. He will judge all of your souls."

"Well, then, see you there." His fingers poised to snap, a slight spark flickering in the dimming light. Time suddenly seemed to slow. A movement caught the far corner of the lieutenant's eye. A flash of brown skin, angry red eyes, and the eruption of a rifle. It happened so fast but time stilled for Roy Mustang. The next sensation was of a white hot pain drilling through his abdomen. He was vaguely aware of stepping back in shock, his gloves stained red. As time seemed to wind back to normal, he could faintly hear Maes call his name. Furious bangs of pistols rang out….yells….the impact of soft sand…and then….

….nothing.

--------------------------------------------

There was a flash of light…then the sensation of many hands touching….so hard to breathe…feels like a weight…

A familiar face drifted into his view.

"Hang on, Roy. They're getting you out of here. A little while longer…" Bleary eyes fluttered again, then shut once more.

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……_beep…………beep………beep………_

Eyelids fluttered in annoyance at the sound. It continued however. And it was cold and there was some rough cloth over him. Finally dark eyes opened to the sterile world of a hospital. Faint confusion knitted Roy's brow. _A hospital? In Ishbal? Not like this._ With some effort, the lieutenant turned his head.

A genuine smile crossed his features. In the small chair by the door was Maes, slouched in his seat in what must've been an uncomfortable position with a packet of papers over his face. Shaking his head, Roy attempted to sit up and winced. _Looks like Hughes's luck rubbed off._ Next to his bed was a small table and on it, the remote to the TV. After a few moments of grunting and groaning, the alchemist flipped it up and threw it at the officer.

Hughes jumped up, papers falling to the floor. "Wha--are we under attack!" He found his friend sitting up in bed, trademark smirk on his face. "You're up! How do you feel?"

"What do you expect?" he retorted as Maes smoothed out his new uniform. "I had a piece of lead in my stomach."

"Had to happen sometime."

Roy sighed. "Where are we? Ishbal doesn't have these kind of facilities."

"Central."

"What?" Maes pulled his chair next to the bed. "You were hit pretty bad. After that all hell broke loose. We were relieved from our position and out troupe was sent back here." Maes cleaned his glasses, which were also new. "You had us scared for awhile there. Your lungs collapsed. They really had to work to bring you back."

Roy looked to his childhood friend, who was now intent on cleaning his glasses. He chuckled. "Now you know how I fell when you end up in the infirmary every other week."

Maes grinned as he replaced his glasses on his nose. He held up a piece of paper in Roy's face, who took it and read it over. "Congratulations, lieutenant colonel. You've been promoted."

Mustang made no response as he scanned the document. He lay back on the pillow and handed the paper back to Maes. "Interesting."

"I thought your reaction would be more positive."

"I got promoted by being shot by a rebel kid. If that's how you gain rank in the military, you should be Fuhrer by now."

Hughes just stuck out his tongue in response. Roy just shrugged as he pulled up the blanket, fighting a chill. The painkillers were making him drowsy, too. Maes easily interpertated the signs and stood. "Get some rest. You report back in two weeks." He looked to the window. "We're going back to Ishbal."

"I suspected so."

Silence. Then Maes turned and grinned. "You know, your nurse is pretty cute."

Roy smirked. "Guess I can play patient a little while longer."

"Her name's Gracia. I think I'll may just take a pass at her as well."

Mustang laughed. "Oh, you challenge me? You'll never win."

Maes pointed a finger at his superior officer as he opened the door. "Perhaps…but the winds of change are blowing, lieutenant colonel."

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_Winds of change…_ Roy mused to himself as a breeze ruffled his long coat. _You didn't know how right you were, Maes._ The flowers on the grave danced slightly in the breeze. Mustang lowered his eyes. _Brigadier general…who thought you'd ever outrank me? _He laughed slightly.

"Colonel?" He turned to see a woman, a young child clinging to her dress. "I didn't know you were still here."

Mustang bowed slightly. "I understand if you want some time alone, Gracia."

Gracia just smiled. "It's fine." Her gaze fell to the gravestone and tears formed in her eyes. "I-I already miss him."

"Mommy? Why are we here? I'm hungry." Gracia kneeled down to her daughter.

"I'm sorry, honey. It's just…"

"Your father wanted us to come here," finished Roy. A bit awkwardly, he rested a hand on the child's head. "Go talk to Lieutenant Hawkeye. She'll get you something to eat."

Elicia looked up at her mother, who nodded in confirmation. She ran off to the female officer, who led her away by the hand.

"Thank you, Colonel. I know this has been hard on you as well. Maes talked about you all the time." She smiled. "I glad to see he was right about you."

Roy watched as Gracia lay a second bundle of flowers on the grave. "I will find out who did this to him. I swear it."

The woman looked up at the alchemist. "I understand if you--"

"I will find out." The expression in Roy's dark eyes was almost frightening. "And punishment will be carried out." He shook his head. "Pardon me. I have some paperwork to take care of." He turned and walked down the path. Once he reached the streets to Central HQ, he paused and looked down the streets. He brushed his hair into its formerly messy style. "I will find out," he repeated. "And whoever it is will pay dearly."

_Ashes to ashes and dust to dust……_

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---End

This modest piece is dedicated to the soldiers overseas. I know more than one over there. Have a happy V-day and come home soon!


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